I can feel the volcano in my chest, it’s rising, up through my lungs, reaching my throat. It pauses. And it’s stuck there. No breaths can slip past it, only desperation and despair.
My skull is wrapped in this hurricane, thoughts of being buried underground and the blackness that follows. Thoughts of guilt, shame. Is it going to kill me this time? Part of me hopes. Part of me wonders.
Then, the rupture. It happens. And it happens quickly and all at once. The colour red pours out, steam covers the room. It continues to happen. Clouds roll in to cover the fire lit sky.
Washed out, the dust settles. Whatever remains are left scatter the surroundings. The hurt, is there. But quiet now. Back to how it was before it was disrupted. Embers burn. Rattles calm.
And just like that, the cycle begins again.
The scars upon this body, all lead to the same place – to a heart that understands the most absurd ways of the world. A heart that bleeds with darkness. A heart that still holds light despite the battles it’s lost.
The scars upon this body are the map to my soul.
A lot can happen in a year,In fact a whole entire lifetime can happen in a year.
Change, and growth and beauty.
You can be a sad girl under a pink December sky, who unknowingly is being photographed by that one person who is going to change you forever.
A year later and you’re different, under the same sky but it all changed. The sadness still lingers, but it’s different now. It’s not as lonely. The world isn’t that dark place it used to be, the cold isn’t bitter any more. Life is still, and the sad girl has a hint of fulfilment in her eyes.
Reflecting back, she found a piece of her soul in that december sky,
Maybe even her peace.
the way your breath tastes like black coffee after a long night of our skin bursting into flames
via Daily Prompt: Obsessed
Your heart is two halves; One half is tied with fear. The other is around the corner waiting for you
And my mouth stopped tasting like me and started tasting like you.
And the colour red looks like the taint of your words as they brush against my neck.
And I forgot how it felt to hate every inch of my being,
Because instead I began to love every inch of yours.
Sometimes I get these beautiful visions in my mind,
Of blues and soft pinks,
Your eyes and your lips.
I paint them on a blank canvas that hangs in my room by the open window.
Hope has always blinded me,
But this time I think the stars will swallow me whole.
Maybe the reds will bleed into the purples,
The sky will fall into the ocean ,
A candle will become the flame,
But nothing will ever burn like the way that you left
It’s late and I’m thinking about you again.
How you taste.
How you feel.
How flowers grow in my mind every time you say my name.
The way Your hand intertwines with mine.
How the space that is you, became the space that is me.
And now there’s no way to know where you end and I begin.
I used to look up at the stars and wonder if there was more out thereIf there was something as beautiful as Cassiopeia in her brave fight
Then I met you
And you put stars into my galaxy
so I created a new constellation
and it’s shaped like you.